Two Wrongs (Detective Inspector Ross Reed Book 1) (5 page)

The fluid that had been poured over Carmella Chapman’s body had been confirmed as bleach. Reed had received a phone call from the Wymondham Forensic Department last night telling him so. Although the department was on the same site as the police station, it took a whole lot of red tape to get any information. There was a fence similar to that of a prison, complete with razor wire on top, which surrounded the building. This was to stop anybody breaking in and tampering with or removing any evidence. Reed thought that it should be enough of a deterrent being at the back of Norfolk’s biggest police station, but what did he know? If he wanted to enter the unit for any reason, he had to get a pass issued from Whitehead. Getting an out of hours phone call was about as taboo as it got.

Reed was sat in his office trying to rub the sleepiness from his eyes. After he had taken the call from forensics last night he had called Tyler to let her know the news about the bleach. She had, in return, called him shortly after six this morning to tell him of something she had found. She had discovered a link between Carmella Chapman’s murder and that of another girl’s murder which had occurred in 2003. The body of Tina Westwood had been found less than 24 hours after she had gone missing in a small wooded area near a village called Ovington where the girl had lived with her parents.

Traces of bleach had been found on her chest and hands; it was a small amount, no more than you would have expected than if she had rested her hands on a freshly cleaned surface and shortly after touched her chest. At the time of the investigation the bleach had had no real significance; it wasn’t until now that it became potentially major. Something else that had piqued Reed’s interest was that Tina had only been wearing one earring when her body had been discovered and, from memory, Carmella hadn’t been wearing any despite her ears being pierced, which could mean nothing but most girls who had their ears pierced chose to decorate them for a night out. He would bear it in mind.

Tina Westwood was 17 years old at the time of her death. There was no obvious motive, no known enemies and as of yet there had been no conviction. Having told her parents she was going over to a friend’s house, she had left at around 6pm. She never arrived there and never came home again. Her friend hadn’t been expecting her and there had been very little hard evidence to work with. The police angled the investigation towards Tina meeting a boyfriend that nobody knew about, much to the disgust of her parents who insisted she wasn’t allowed one. The parent’s refusal to accept the possibility of a boyfriend enforced the police’s suspicion that she may have been keeping one a secret.

Her autopsy report showed that she had died from a single blow to the head with a blunt object, exactly the same way as Carmella was killed. The poor man who discovered her body was out on the Ovington fen walking his black Labrador when it disobeyed him for something more stimulating in one of the small forest areas just off the main track. When he went to investigate what it could be, he found Tina’s body.

Reed was trying to absorb as much information from the file that Tyler had compiled for him before driving to Tina Westwood’s parents’ house where he was meeting with Allison Mcleary, who had worked as the Family Liaison Officer at the time. He had asked her to attend because she was a familiar face and they needed to warn the family about the latest murder and the media attention it would bring. If the police had linked the two, the media wouldn’t be far behind, as per usual, and sometimes they were even ahead.

Reed parked on the brick-weave driveway behind a blue Ford Mondeo. The garden was neat and tidy with a huge willow tree as the main feature. The house was weathered like any other but no attempts had been made to rectify this. The paint on the windowsills had been left to flake and watermarks on the bricks revealed a broken drainpipe.

After greeting Reed, Mcleary led the way down the side of the house and rapped her knuckles on the door, despite there being a doorbell.

After a couple of seconds the door groaned open. Reed was surprised at the woman who poked her head out. Her greying hair was set into a lifeless bob and the fringe was cut in a straight horizontal line just above her eyebrows. When she felt safe enough to do so, she pulled the door open to reveal an old-fashioned floral dress, skin coloured tights and sensible black pumps. “Hello.” She offered a weak smile, “Please come in.”

“Thank you.” Mcleary replied before stepping in.

Mrs Susan Chapman stopped in the hallway and offered Reed a shy smile as a way of a hello before turning her attention back to Mcleary, “Please come through. Make yourselves comfortable and I’ll fetch some tea.”

As Reed was about to turn left into the lounge, he noticed a figure at the end of the hall moving from one side of a doorway to the other. The man, presumably Alan Westwood, glanced briefly in his direction but didn’t acknowledge that anybody was there, an empty expression set on his face. Reed guessed having your daughter murdered could do that.

Reed joined Mcleary in the lounge and Susan hurried down towards the kitchen. Faint whispering began instantly but the male’s raspy voice made no effort to hide itself, “I know that!” He said. Reed guessed the police presence in his house had finally been acknowledged.

With Mcleary settling into the comfort of an armchair, Reed took in his surroundings, the room felt small despite it running from the front to the back of the house. The light was on and the curtains were open but the room still felt dingy. It wasn’t dirt; in fact the room seemed well kept, somewhere near spotless. He wondered if it had more to do with the age of the decor. The wallpaper reminded him of an Indian restaurant he had dined at once. The TV was black and big, needing a separate cabinet of its own to sit on, not like the flat screen ones available now that could be hung on the wall to free up valuable space that was then left empty anyway.

Susan came in holding a tray, which Reed suspected had been prepared way in advance of their scheduled appointment. She sat it down on the coffee table and issued them with their cups.

“Sugar?” Susan asked looking at Reed.

“Two, please.”

“Still just the one for you, Allison?”

“Yes, although I’m not trying to keep my figure anymore, I’m trying to get it back!”

Susan laughed and waved the joke away to let her know she was being silly. Reed agreed with her. Mcleary was slim, attractive, and at 40 years old had an excellent figure. Reed, on the other hand, felt he was a little too tubby for a 38 year old. Mcleary had never been married or had children and never intended to either. She had informed Reed of this a few years ago whilst they had both been on the same training course. At lunchtimes they would take the short walk to the Whiffler pub and share a meal and a couple of drinks together. Socially their paths had never crossed again but they enjoyed working together.

Just as Susan finished pouring and stirring the drinks, Alan Westwood came in and sat down on a chair with the same demeanor as a young child who had been dragged to a particularly ugly aunt’s house where they would be showered with kisses. After another cup of tea had been poured and handed to him, Alan’s eyes settled on something towards the centre of the room on the floor. After trying to follow his line of his vision a full three times, Reed was still unsure what exactly he was looking at. The presence of the man brought an uneasy feeling to the room.

Susan looked to Allison to break the silence which she wasn’t about to do, so she looked to Reed, passing the responsibility to him.

“As I mentioned on the phone Mrs Westwood, we’re here to liaise with you regarding the murder of Carmella Chapman, just so you...”

“Did she kill Tina?” Alan cut in with enough volume to interrupt Reed but not enough so anyone could really hear the words.

“Sorry?” Reed looked to Alan, who stayed focused on the centre of the floor.

“DID. . . SHE. . . KILL. . . TINA?” Alan asked in a manner as though he were speaking to a foreign infant.

“We have absolutely no reason to suspect so sir.” Reed replied trying to keep his composure.

“Then I really don’t see what it’s got to do with us?”

“Alan!” Susan shrieked, letting him know in one word the embarrassment he was causing her.

Reed didn’t know the visit was of any good to the Westwoods either, the murder of another young girl reigniting the pain of ten years ago.

“Unfortunately there are similarities to Tina’s murder,” Mcleary took over, “No doubt the press will be linking them together and highlighting all the connections. I’m sure there will be some facts, but there will be some speculation thrown in for good measure. DI Reed and I wanted to warn you not to take too much notice as we understand that something like this could stir up a lot of old feelings for you both.”

“That is very considerate of you.” Susan said gratefully.

“Well, one thing I would like to point out,” Alan said calmly, finally looking up at Reed. “If it is a serial killer, which is what I’m guessing the press are going to suggest, it just highlights that you should have caught him in the first place.”

“Alan, please!” Susan shrieked again.

“It’s OK, Susan. We understand that this is upsetting. Alan, the investigation into your daughter’s death has never stopped. It never will.” Mcleary tried.

“No, I’m sure if the killer hands himself in, you’ll wrap it up a treat.”

“Excuse my husband, Detective.” Susan pleaded.

“No need. It’s fine. There’s no evidence of a serial killer, just some connections that could amount to nothing. That said, the press will link them together just to dramatise the story, things like the location and the fact they were both females around the same age. What we will do is give you any new information regarding your daughter’s murder so please try to ignore any speculation you might read or hear. If you have any doubts, any at all, give Allison a call or you can reach me on this number.” Reed stood and put his card on the table, making it clear it was time to leave. Alan stayed where he was, refocusing on the floor once again.

Susan saw them out and thanked them for their visit. She apologised again for her husband. Reed and Mcleary reassured her there was no need.

“What an asshole!” Reed said as soon as the door was shut.

“Don’t take it personally, he never thought too much of the police at the time.”

“His daughter was murdered and we never caught whoever was responsible, I get that. It left him with no-one to blame. As a parent, I think you must blame yourself a little no matter what the circumstances; maybe you feel that you should have taken more of an interest in her life so you knew what she was doing, just
something
you could have done differently. When you can’t take the guilt anymore, you take it out on the police because we’re there and within reach.”

After a few seconds, Mcleary asked Reed, “Do you think you’re dealing with the same killer?”

“The similarity between the two is obvious. My worry is that it could just be coincidence and we’ll try too hard to make them fit together. It’s been ten years and bleach is a very common product after all.”

“Two girls of a similar age, then there’s the proximity and similarity of the two areas, and yes, the bleach. You’ve got to admit it’s a strong connection.”

“I do admit it. What I don’t understand is why wait for ten years to do it again? I’m no expert but I’m pretty sure serial killers don’t wait ten years between kills.”

“They could be on the move but used this milestone to return.”

“Nationally and internationally there isn’t a pattern. Not involving bleach anyway. As for the anniversary theory, I still don’t think they could wait that long.”

“Any links between the two girls, a friend or teacher?

“Not that we know of. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. They were a similar age when they died but that happens to be ten years apart.”

Reed had done all the mundane chores that were required of him back at the Wymondham headquarters. The paperwork was all done for the day. Even as a Detective Inspector, Reed still had his fair share of paperwork, if not more than someone of a lower rank.

Now he was going to do two jobs in one go. He was taking his car to Butlers Motor Services. First reason being that his Volvo V40 was still not running as it should. It had developed a kind of split personality, working fine one day and struggling the next. The second reason being, it was the garage where David Jones worked. Jones was at the same nightclub as Carmella Chapman on the night she went missing. He also very quickly informed the police that Lee Gulliver had given Carmella a lift home that evening. The garage itself was located in Thetford; if they needed to keep the car overnight, Reed could call Kate to pick him up.

Reed was naturally suspicious of people; it was part of the job. It could be that Jones was just doing his best to help but unfortunately there was a surprising amount of people that could spot an opportunity to cause an old enemy some grief, or worse, direct any unwanted attention away from them. Until Reed had spoken to Jones himself, he couldn’t get a feel for his intentions.

The garage was much the same as any other private garage- dirty looking. A roller shutter door had a few dents in it and the small yard was bumper to bumper with cars. Even with Reed’s limited knowledge, it was obvious some of them were way beyond repair. He wasn’t entirely sure where to park without being in the way, so he gave up and parked directly in front of an open door hoping this would be a good way to get someone’s attention. When nobody was forthcoming to complain about his somewhat selfish positioning, he got out of his car and strayed into the main workshop.